


Heavy is the Head

by RenaRoo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-19 23:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7382308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenaRoo/pseuds/RenaRoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pidge gets hurt and Shiro takes it personally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heavy is the Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ephemeraltea (temporarily_obsessed)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/temporarily_obsessed/gifts).



> Prompt from ephemeraltea: Voltron prompt, if you feel so inclined: a bonding moment between Pidge and Shiro after Pidge gets injured and Shiro thinks it's his fault.

“Pidge!?”  


It happened so fast. 

There was a flash and a bang and–

Her fingers were moving, digging into the ground under them. She could feel the dirt and grit under nails. That meant she wasn’t wearing her gloves. That meant she wasn’t in her suit. That meant…

“Stay with me, Pidge, follow my finger.”  


Actually, she wasn’t sure _what_ that meant.

“Pidge!” 

Everything went dark and for a moment she wondered when she got so comfortable with the name Pidge. It was a funny thing to think about. She liked how Shiro said it. 

She wondered if that was how Pidge would sound if her father or brother said it. She wondered if she’d get the chance to hear it from them. 

“Stay with me, Pidge.”  


And it wasn’t really a request, it was… _begging._ The kind of thing begged for when there was no way of actually keeping a promise but. Well, she wouldn’t ever want to worry Shiro. 

“Okay,” Pidge said, squeezing back. 

* * *

He was sitting there when she woke up. Not that she could positively identify him without her glasses on. But she had her suspicions. 

Especially when she sat up and asked groggily, “Shiro?” and he flinched into action. 

“Pidge!” he said, leaning forward in his seat. “Are you alright? How are you feeling? Should you be laying back down?”  


“One question at a time, Shiro,” she muttered, laying back down.   


He eased back once she did, but Shiro blur was ramrod straight. Like a soldier not knowing how to slip back into rest. 

“Have you been there long?” Pidge asked finally, leaning her head to look at him.  


“The whole time,” he assured her.  


Unable to stop her laugh, Pidge closed her eyes and rolled her head back onto the pillow. “That’s dumb.”

“Hey, what’s so dumb about it?” Shiro asked softly. “I wasn’t about to leave your side. We had a promise.”  


Thinking still hurt a bit, but Pidge considered Shiro’s defense and remembered what had happened before – in the blur of action and confusion. She made sure she was remembering things correctly herself before taking on Shiro’s integrity. 

“You didn’t promise anything, I did,” she reminded him. “You should take care of yourself more, Shiro.”  


“My main concern is taking care of my team, Pidge,” Shiro said, surprising Pidge with the seriousness in his tone. “It’s my responsibility, and it’s one I take seriously… but apparently not seriously enough.”  


With a grunt, Pidge pushed herself up, leveling an even glare at Shiro. She couldn’t help but think it would have gotten its point across _way_ better if she had her glasses. “Okay, Shiro. What’re you talking about?”

Shiro took a heralding breath. “It’s just… I know I messed up here, I put you – _all_ of you – in serious danger. All for a risky maneuver that…” 

“That worked?” Pidge questioned.   


“That had success that proved _not_ worth the costs,” Shiro replied.   


“Success is always worth the risk,” Pidge argued.   


Shifting uncomfortably, Shiro shook his head. “You, Keith, Lance, Hunk – your personal safeties are not worth _any_ risk. And as the head of Voltron, I have to be able to make the right decisions. The ones that will save the day _and_ keep my fellow paladins safe.”

With a thick exhale through her nose, Pidge sat back in her bed. “You’re _one_ paladin of _five_ , Shiro. We all make these decisions together. We _all_ take the risks.” She then pointed toward him. “So even if you’re the head, you need to stop taking all this extra burden on your shoulders. Got it?”

There was a pause for a moment before Shiro coughed. 

“Pidge,” he said simply. “You’re not… _really_ pointing at me. Are you supposed to be?”

Blinking a few times, Pidge attempted to move her pointing finger in the correct direction a few times before giving up and crossing her arms. “Well, I _would_ be if I had my glasses.”

There was a soft laugh from Shiro and he leaned forward, grabbing something from her nightstand. “Here,” he said softly, beginning to brush away her stray bangs. As he smoothly worked her glasses over her nose and Pidge watched the fuzz in her vision realign to clarity. She could see Shiro’s smile, a half smirk with tired eyes. “Better?”

“Maybe,” Pidge replied, brow arching. “Are you done taking unnecessary guilt trips in my presence.”  


“Not completely,” he replied with a laugh.   


Pidge watched him settle back and take a breath. “Shiro, it’s not your fault. And I can’t sleep without knowing you know that. And I can’t _heal_ without sleeping so…”

“It’s not my fault, Pidge,” Shiro sighed, a ghost of a smile still on his lips.  


Nodding, Pidge laid back down. “Good.”


End file.
